infinite jest @zaroz-blog - Tumblr Blog

starting probably a month or something from right now this blog is dead. it will be finished. it will be deceased. i am at a new blog: http://insektt.tumblr.com/ however i have collected 45 of my favorite posts from this place and i am going to re-post them as a part of the new blog. so yeah, i got bored of this one and it is full of old and sad stuff that i dont want to see anymore and things are full of change so i am going to let this die as a prt of the changing process. everything will be the same except im probably only going to follow other writers/poets/whatever on the new blog. so yeah, zaroz is dead. long live insektt. please follow me if you want to.

i feel very good about being alive right now. i was reading a lot of my old poetry and looking at my old drawings and reading through the way i used to talk just a year ago. and it was so bad. it was cringe-worthy and it was full of mistakes and all of these terribly awful things. and it was wonderful. because if i can improve that much in one year, i can improve 4 times that much in anything by the time i graduate college. two years ago i didn't know what slam poetry was, and now i'm preparing to go to state finals tomorrow night. in two years i could be really good at something i dont know about. in 5 years im going to look at who i am now as some sort of idiot and that excites me. i am going to get better. i will progress. everything grows.

someday i will hate who i am now and that is great because the person i will become will be better for the experience.

the kitsch of death

i've made the decision that, when i graduate from highschool (probably on that exact day, actually) i'm going to abandon this place in exchange for a new blog. i'm still going to write things and post them, but i think i need a re-do. or not a re-do. i need a new start. something. something new. the past gets real heavy sometimes and i feel like a lot of the stuff i've written here is weighing me down from making any sort of progress. and i want to make progress more than anything. so i think im going to keep this blog alive, but abandoned. because i'm not ashamed of what i wrote here or anything like that. i really like some of it sometimes, but, i dunno. i wanna forget about it. i've had a hard time doing anything new a lot lately. i've been stressed and sick and angry and sad and all sorts of stuff. when i leave highschool i'm going to leave behind a lot of old friends, and girlfriends, and people. and all of those little highschool trademarks that are best left in the past. i wrote about most of them here. and i think its best to let them stay here. so i'll leave them where they belong. i'm really only concerned about inventing a new moniker for myself. i liked zaroz. oh well.

i think i might sink this blog and start anew. something new and fresh and inspired. hmm. i dunno. im not content here anymore. hmm. ok. hmm. ill think about it.

unfollow me.

we are the dialogue between patient and dentist with polyurethane grins laminated across our cheeks. we bite our lips because they are numb and lethargic and sometimes we make them bleed because we like the way that blood tastes like red wires dipped in blue sparks. we do not kiss anymore, only smile our apathetic smiles, and breath our thinning breaths, and taste our bitter food until we can leave the restaurant penniless and unsatisfied. we spit apologies at one another. we drool our intentions of tomorrow. we vomit feelings in inconvenient locations like train platforms and bus seats until even the frailest sweet gesture is dead.

syntaxandsemantics

when is enough? a body divided on platters, sparkling with the polish of knives, preparing for amputation the scrape of metal on skin and calculated slice, count the seconds of tolerance another helping, more please, 'til there's nothing left.

a man in new york is searching high and low to create an album of every photo he has ever inadvertently been involved in. he estimates that he has been the in the background of at least a billion photos, maybe more, and that he is likely to have been spread all across the globe. in his late 20's he spent most of his time eating lunch, casually, outside of famous landmarks for this exact mission. and now he is all over the place, eating ham and cheese sandwiches, slurping noodles, and drinking bottles of vitamin water in thousands of family photo albums. he is in attics and picture frames and on the facebook pages of people he would hate to meet had he ever met them. but he is a part of their lives. when relatives visit from out of town to the houses of these strangers, they pick up the picture frame from the mantle, tilt them towards their thin-rimmed glasses, and, with a squint, they stare. they imagine themselves as a part of the landscape out on the observation deck of rockefeller tower. they imagine they can smell hot dogs, can see central park unfolding before them, can hear the benign conversations of people around them asking each other what they'd like to do and where they'd like to go next. and then there is a man there. and he doesn't have a name, or a voice, or much else save for a slice of pizza and a bottle of water and two eyes that stare hungrily in to the camera lens. they put the picture down and pick up another, and maybe he's there again. this time on ellis island. and then a different picture, he's crossing the road near nbc studios. and, depending on the relative and the day, they make different conclusions. some don't notice. some suspect the government. some propose that he's a stalker. but most mark it up to coincidence. this man is one of life's funny little mysteries to which they'll never know the answer. they laugh and they are ok.

#an abstract for something better later

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